Nose-dive: ER/Due South Crossover.
by Sadieclay
Summary: Kowalski and Fraser visit County General. New Chapters 5,6 and 7 posted!
1. ND: Birthday Surprises

nd.html   
DISCLAIMER: I don't own characters of ER or Due South.. Although a Paul Gross/Erik Palladino sandwich would be SOOO nice.. 

***** 

"I don't think this is a very good idea Ray.." Benton Fraser murmured worriedly as his partner, Stanley Raymond Kowalksi bound his legs together and attached the bungee cord. "Isn't there a chance that the cord could break?" He peered over the side at the sheer drop and shuddered. "I mean.. That is a ways down." His lanky light brown hair fell in his blue eyes and the shadow cast by the sun beating down on the two men obscured the man's chiseled good looks. 

Ray shrugged, getting to his feet and wiping his hands on his pants. "I dunno.. I guess there's a slim chance, but there's always a slim chance, Fraser.. I mean there's also a slim chance that this bridge could suddenly collapse and kill us both." The man grinned, his slate blue eyes twinkling, his coke bottle glasses shoved deep into his back pocket. He didn't need them.. He didn't need them... Except for reading, and shooting and general day to day living.. He rubbed his stubbled jaw and self-consciously wiped the end of his nose. "I don't think it'll happen." 

The colour dropped from the Mountie's already pallid complexion that was beaded with sweat. "Uhh..." Fraser looked over the side of the bridge again. "I don't know about this." 

Ray sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Look... You said you wanted to do something fun for your birthday." 

"I meant like cake and ice cream at the precinct, with Lieutenant and Dief and...." Fraser smiled goofily and rubbed the back of his neck with a shaking hand. "Francesca.." 

"Oh yeah..... Sounds like TONNES of fun!!!" Ray said sarcastically as he dug for the camcorder in the knapsack they'd brought up with them. Slowly his brows raised and he looked up at his friend. "Fran? Oh man... Frase' you animal!" 

Dief rolled his eyes and grunted in disapproval and Fraser Sr sighed heavily. "Son, women are nothing but trouble. Did I ever tell you about the time that your mother and I-" 

"Dad.. Not now..." Fraser grumbled. 

"Ahh got!" Ray smiled turning on the video camera. "Did you say something?" 

"Uh.." Fraser looked over at his father who was stooped at his feet and inspecting the job Ray had done fastening the cord. "Nope.." 

"Son, I don't think this man is a licensed Bungee jump specialist.. This looks pretty fishy to me.." Fraser Sr. muttered worriedly. He was dressed, as usual, in his plaid quilted jacket, his jack boots laced tight. He may have been a retired officer.. He may have been a DEAD retired officer.. But that was no reason to look shabby. At least he hadn't appeared in the fur hat with ear flaps and the Hudson's Bay coat. It was a damn sight too hot for something like that. He was a ghost, that was true enough, but he wasn't about to be a sweaty smelly ghost, that was just unseemly. 

"Yeah.. Whatever.. Hey.. I was going to ask you.. Why are you wearing that? I mean.. It's our day off.. There's no need for you to be wearing that.. Wouldn't jeans and a t-shirt been okay?" Ray chuckled looking at the man's red serge, Stetson and regulation boots. 

"I suppose so Ray.. But if I'm splattered all over that ground down there.. Wouldn't it be best if I was dressed for the funeral already? I mean.. It would save time." Fraser sighed. 

"FRASER! You're not going to die! It'll be fun.. I'm gonna go get a better shot." Ray grabbed the camera and disappeared across the bridge. 

"Hey! Ray! Where are you going!?" Fraser said worriedly. 

"To get a better shot.. It'll look great on the ground. It's okay.. Tank's there with ya.. He'll take good care of you.. I just want to get this shot.." The officer grinned and ran down the hill side and vanished from view. 

"He's right.. You'll be fine with me." Tank grinned toothlessly, stooping and inspecting the padding and cinched it tight. "You're good to go buddy.. Come on.. Take the leap."   


*** 

Ray stood on the raised platform that he'd erected underneath the bridge, camcorder aimed skywards at the little dot. A little dot that grew larger and larger as it plummeted towards the lens. "Aww this is great! You'll love this, Frase'!!! This so so gr-SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" 

The man stumbled backward and fell flat in his ass with the broken camera. Fraser shot back up and bounced as the bungee cord slacked and then pulled him back to the bridge. Tiny droplets of the man's blood fell to the ground and Ray whimpered, looking at his obliterated camera. "Frase!? You okay!?" 

"I-INK-I-OKE-OSE!!!!!!" Constable Benton Fraser yelled as he sprung backwards and was pulled up to the bridge by Ray's faithful partner in crime, Tank. 

Ray sighed. "WHAT!?"   


******* 

"My nothe is b'oken.. I b'oke my nothe on your-th sth-tupid video ca-ma-mera." Fraser mumbled miserably as he lay back on the gurney, his head tilted back and a wad of Kleenex over his swollen nose. "I tol' you thisth wath a bad idea!" 

A doctor entered the room and stood in the doorway, looking at the two men. One was wearing a leather jacket and cradling a broken camcorder and the other dressed in something that looked like an extra from a musical version Dudley Do-Right, was moaning and holding a giant bunch of tissues over his nose.   


Dr.Dave Malucci smiled nervously. It wasn't Halloween.. It wasn't supposed to be weird patient day. He tugged at the seam of his dark blue hospital scrubs and carefully stared at the men, the gaze of his dark brown eyes penetrating and unyielding. A hand brushed through his suicide blonde dye job and rested at his side as his tongue darted from his mouth and moistened his full lips. His tanned complexion seemed odd against the start contrast of bottle blonde, Fraser Sr. furrowed his brow in thought. 

"Son.. This man looks a bit young.. Are you going to make sure he's not a trainee?? I don't want your nose set wrong. There was a man I used to know years ago.. He was a looker.. Then a moose trampled the campgrounds and kicked the poor man in the face. Poor Wiggins never DID look the same after that.. And he always sorta walked with a tilt.. It was interesting actually. If somebody walked behind him for a bit, you started to lean that way too... We had a lot of tilted people in that town after that.." Fraser Sr. sighed and pulled a small length of wood from his pocket and began carving it as he sat in the chair across from the exam table. 

Malucci looked at the chart.. "So... You think you broke your nose? How did you do that?!" He pulled up the chair, Fraser Sr. had been sitting in moments ago and slowly examined Fraser's face and nose. "Yeah.. I'll order a couple x-rays." Dave muttered, as he pressed gently and probed the bruised flesh. 

Fraser winced. "Uh huh.. Yeah.. I wath bungee jumping.. My frien' had a camera.. I.." 

Malucci bit his lip to keep from snickering. The man had plowed head on into a video camera.. That must have HURT... "Uh huh.. Okay.. Well.. We'll see when we get the x-rays back." 

*****   



	2. ND: Duck!

FanFiction.Netnd2.html

***** 

"Okay, Constable Fraser.. The films are back and your nose IS broken." Dave said as he tacked the films on the light board. 

"Oh dear, Maggie won't be pleased about this. Not at all." Fraser murmured. "I have to work tomorrow. I can't work looking like this. Inspector Thatcher will certainly be upset.." 

"Who's Maggie?" Dave looked at Ray who rolled his eyes. 

"His boss.. He works at the Canadian Consulate. Stands outside the building like one of those guys at Buckingham Palace." Ray winced rubbing his jaw at the distant memory. "Except when you piss one of them off.. Apparently Mounties have the permission to cold cock people that piss them off.." He muttered irritably. 

The doctor snickered, looking at Fraser. "You?" 

"No... It was Michlin. I was on vacation. Ray called him a..." Fraser furrowed his brow slightly, and looked at his friend. "What was it Ray?" He smiled, his face brightening. "Oh yes.. A candy-ass mamma's boy toy soldier.." 

Ray flinched. "I was only kidding. I thought you guys weren't allowed to talk or acknowledge the public." 

"Talk, no.. Outward sudden violence like that? It's not encouraged. But Michlin was also attending anger management classes, in the middle of a messy divorce, his dog had chewed up his best boots and his car had been towed and impounded. You caught him on a bad day, Ray. Just be thankful you didn't do the 'got your nose' gag.. I fear he would have pushed you out into on-coming traffic." Fraser sighed, gripping the bloodied Kleenex tightly on his nose, wiping it, before he balled it up and threw it into the trash can. 

"You work at the Canadian Consulate? That's your job? Standing outside all day? Christ! I mean.. I've heard of America's bustling economy, but to have a job as a human doorstop.." 

Fraser frowned. "Actually.." 

Ray stood from his chair and began to pace the small exam room. "Here we go..." 

Fraser nodded empathatically and leaned forward on the gurney as if telling a great tale. "I I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father, and for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, I have rem-" 

"Remained, attached as a liaison officer to the Canadian Consulate." Ray finished tiredly. 

"Ray.. I really do think that was unnecessary." Fraser scolded. 

"Fraser you do this every time! I don't think Dr.Malucci has time to hear about your dead father. I really doubt he cares." Ray grumbled, stomping from the room to find a vending machine that dispensed mickeys. Better yet.. Thought Ray. Find one the gives out those pens that when you tip them upside down the woman's clothes fall off.. Yeah.. a nudie pen and a mickey of something potent.. That mountie.. Birthday or not, the man drove him nuts.. 

Dave watched the man go and sighed. "I was actually gonna ask.. But I guess it doesn't matter now.. Did you want something for the pain before I reset your nose?" 

"No, I'm quite alright. Thank you kindly Dr.Dave." Fraser said with a little more confidence than he felt. 

"Okay then buddy, it's your funeral." Dave muttered as he proceeded to adjust and set the man's nose. 

** 

Ray wandered the halls eyeing the pretty nurses when he heard the painful yelps from the exam room. 

He ran down the corridor and burst in to find his friend laying back on the gurney, bandaged, ashen and trembling sightly. "Hey.. Fras'.. You okay?" 

Fraser nodded. "Quite alright Ray.. Our friend here however.. I fear he's also broken his nose.." 

Dave rocked slowly on the stool, his hands clasped over his face and blood seeping through his fingers. "It was an accident Ray!" He murmured apologetically. "He was resetting my nose and my arm jerked. It was a reflex. I elbowed the poor man in the face." 

"It'll be okay Fras'" Ray looked at the sullen Dave and handed him a Kleenex. "He didn't mean it. It was an accident, you know." He replied calmly as he handed the doctor another Kleenex. 

"That's okay." Dave mumbled thickly from behind his hands. " Don't think it's broken." 

** 

A persistent rapping on the door alerted the men and they looked up to see a red haired woman of average stature, smartly dressed and garbed in a white lab coat. The only thing out of the ordinary was the cane she clutched threateningly in her grasp. "What did you two do to him!? Call security Randi!" She said she turned and yelled, directing the last question to the stunningly beautiful desk clerk, who snapped her gum, fiddled with her bra strap and picked up the phone with gaudily painted fingernails. 

"What did the Dudley Do-Right and cop and do to Malucci? Smother him in maple syrup and sicc beavers on his ass?" Randi snorted. 

"RANDI!!" 

"Yes boss." She muttered, dialing. 

** 

"What happened here?!" Kerry Weaver growled, leaning on her crutch and glaring at Fraser and Ray. 

"It was an accident, Chief. I'm alright. I just startled the patient." Dave muttered, embarrassed. "I'm just lucky that his crazy dog didn't try anything." 

"Dog?" Kerry peered under the gurney to find Diefenbaker asleep. "I'm afraid you can't have a dog in here sir. The clerks can watch him at the front desk, but you can't have him in here." 

She sighed trying to coax the wolf from under the bed. "Come on.. Come on Pooch.. Commere.." 

"His name is Diefenbaker, after John George Diefenbaker. He was Prime Minister of the Progressive Party and served a term from 1957 to 1963. He can't hear you, he's deaf.. Dr..." Fraser bearily examined the badge as his bruised face began to swell. Maggie Thatcher wouldn't be happy about this at all. "-Weaver. He can't hear you, but if you look at him directly and enunciate, he's able to lip read." The constable offered helpfully. 

"Yeah, and he's a wolf, not a dog." Ray muttered, stooping to scratch the white, grey-eyed beast behind the ears. Dief moaned and turned his head towards the man's thoughtful fingers. 

"A deaf, lip reading wolf.." Kerry repeated to herself in disbelief. Shaking her head, she sighed. "I don't believe this. Sam Steele and his faithful, deaf, lip-reading wolf. Dr.Malucci, I'll return to my duties and call off security." 

"They couldn't come!" Randi yelled from the front desk. "Pong tournament." 

Kerry rolled her eyes, leaving the room. Pong tournament. Of course.   


** 


	3. ND: Can I scratch his tummy?

nd3.html *** 

"I'm truly sorry, Dr.Malucci.. It was an accident." Fraser apologised again. 

"No problem man.. It's just a bloody nose.." Dave snuffled as he wiped it with a kleenex. "Yours however. I gotta set before you lose the whole movie star mountie look.. I mean.. The whole doorstop thing.. Nobody wants an ugly doorstop." He muttered, babbling slightly, as Detective Kowalski and Constable Fraser exchanged looks. 

"Maybe we should get another doctor in here.. One that knows how to duck.." Ray said dryly as he walked from the room and to the admit desk where Randi was applying 'Grape Popsicle' to her finger nails and dotting 'Outrageous Orange Orangutang' over top the purple hue. "Excuse me.. Randi? I'd like you to get my friend another doctor. My friend.. Seems to have punched your Dr.Dave in the nose. Do you perhaps have a doctor on staff who was an ex-boxer or somethin'?" He grinned flirtatiously , rubbing his chin and tapping his index finger rhythmically on the counter. 

"Okay.. The guy in the red suit, just punched out Dr.Dave?" She chuckled. "Uhh huh.. Well.. There's a Doctor Greene around here somewhere you want me to page him?" 

Ray nodded. "Yes.. Please" He sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Damn mountie.. Rubbing off on me.. Dammit." Ray muttered to himself before smiling painfully at the clerk. "Thank you very much." 

Randi smirked. "You're welcome Detective. I'll page him right now." 

He nodded returning to the room and Randi returning to carefully pulling off a shoe and starting to paint her toes. 

*** 

Half an hour later Mark sat outside with Rachel, tossing the basketball, his twelve year old daughter sinking more baskets than he was. Mark was getting fed up. "Dammit! Damn that stupid Canadian.." He grumbled as the basket ball bounced awkwardly off the rim and went flying into the alley. 

As he bounded after it, Rachel called out after him. "What Canadian Daddy?" 

"The man who invented this unbelievably stupid game.." Mark grumbled as he scooped up the ball from a pile of disgustingly wet and sticky refuse in the alley. "Is from Ontario, Canada.. He moved to Connecticut and became a professor.. and had to invent a game for some students to stay in shape. Dr.James Naismith. He invented basketball.." 

Rachel smiled sympathatically. "Uh huh.. and you suck at it Daddy.. Maybe we should go in for some water. " 

"Hmmm.. Water... At least the damn Canadians didn't invent that.. If I see anything else remotely Canadian today.." Mark muttered irritably as they walked to the ambulance bay. 

"Daddy didn't Alexander Grahame Bell invent the telephone?" Rachel said worriedly. 

"Yes, honey.. He invented the telephone.." Mark replied with a sigh. Where was this going? 

"Well.. Dr.Bell was Canadian.. and uh... Your cell is ringing.." She scooped it up from his sweatshirt that lay in a pile beside the automatic doors of the ER and tossed it to him. 

"Dr.Greene.. I've been trying to page you.. We've got a.. an interesting patient in here.. He's been asking for a doctor.." Randi mumbled, biting her tongue to keep from laughing. 

"Aren't there any other doctors on duty to handle it?" Mark growled into the phone. 

"Well.. Malucci was handling it.. He got punched in the nose. Weaver was in there but got chased out by the deaf wolf. I can hear it all from here.. The guy's apologizing every 5 seconds.. It was an accident.." 

"What do you mean he's apologizing every 5 seconds?" The doctor rubbed a temple and walked into the ER. 

Randi put down the phone and hung it up as the doctor approached the desk. "He's Canadian.. He punched Dave in the nose and now he won't shut up about it." 

"Canadian? Have you been spending too much time in enclosed spaces with bottles of White-Out, Randi?" Mark murmured worriedly. 

"No.. It's a RCMP officer from Canada.. He keeps apologizing.. His friend figures, if he gets somebody else in there that the guy hasn't hurt, then he can get his nose splinted and get out of there. Without wasting anymore of our time, his time and our exam room." Kerry explained as she approached the desk. 

"So why in the hell aren't you doing it? I still have 30 minutes before my shift. I was having quality time with my daughter." Mark growled. Quality time.. Yeah right. He was actually getting sick of getting his ass kicked by a twelve-year old. 

"Because there's a wolf asleep underneath that gurney in there, and despite the fact that it's deaf and able to lip-read, it doesn't change the fact that I hate dogs.. You deal with it. I'm off shift now." Kerry slammed into the lounge and left Mark at the desk. 

Rachel came in behind and hugged her father around the waist. "A dog!? Can I see Dad?! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!?" 

Mark sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with his hand and bringing it to a close on the bridge of his nose as he pinched it. "Rachel.." 

"Please Daddy!? I jus' wanna see.. I just wanna see... I never saw a real wolf before." Rachel said as she followed her father into the exam room. 

"Actually he is only part wolf." Fraser explained with a pained smile. "But he still thinks it's a big enough part of his genes to be a total egomaniacal ass about it. Isn't that correct Diefenbaker?" 

Dief rolled his eyes and groaned before turning his attention to Rachel and rolling on his back with his feet in the air. "Diefenbaker.. You just love to exploit women don't you!?" Fraser said in an accusatory tone. 

Rachel cooed softly, rubbing the dog's stomach and scratching him behind the ears as the dog moaned with sheer pleasure. "Ooohhh who's a good doggy!?" She soothed, scratching him under the chin and his large tail thumped on the ground as he whined blissfully. 

"Simply disgraceful.." Fraser muttered disappointedly before turning his attention back to Dr.Greene who was pulling on a pair of gloves.   



	4. ND: Cutting it close

nd4.html **** 

"There is still too much swelling to do anything about it now. Come back in a few days. I'll book a surgeon." Mark muttered sullenly. He wasn't on shift. What was he doing here!? 

Ray sighed, glancing at his watch as the exam room door opened and Randi stuck her head in, rolling her eyes at the sight. "There's another Mountie out here looking for the one in here.. He's sorta cute.. Has one of those nice hats.." 

"Randi." Mark sighed, attempting to interrupt her, but she plugged on. 

"-says he's looking for a Constable Benton Fraser.. Says his name is Turnbull, I don't know if that's his first name or last but-" 

"RANDI!" 

She jumped, startled and looked at the doctor, a vein started to throb in his head. "Yes Dr.Greene?!" 

"Send him in. I'm finished here. Constable Fraser, I will write you a prescription for some painkillers. Acetaminophen and codeine.. The acetaminophen will bring the swelling down, icing it will help as well." Mark stood, shaking the man's hand. "See you in a few days Constable." 

"Certainly, doctor. Come Dief." Fraser said miserably as he coaxed the dog out of Rachel's loving and squirmy fingers. 

Ray patted his friend on the back and lead him from the exam room, from the hospital and to his green Buick '71 Riv. "It'll be okay Fras.. We'll get back to the precinct.. Have some cake.. Everything will be gre-" 

As they pulled out of the parking lot, a car cut across and zipped down the street, squealing his tires as he drove and disappeared down the street. 

Fraser pitched forward, the old car not installed with airbags, the mountie moaned in pain as his face hit the dash. "Oohhhhhh.... Ray? That man? He violated codes 7-G, 45-L and Highway administration act, 6-M." 

Ray sighed. "You want us to go after the bastard, Frase'?" 

"Yes please, Ray." 

** 

As they sped after the fairly rusted and puke yellow mid-sized Pontiac, the police radio fused underneath Ray's dashboard crackled to life. "Vecchio.. We just had a hit and run on Belleview and Dundas. Yellow '88 Pontiac. Left head light and fender damaged. Partial plate M57 4 -" 

The muffled din of the Lieutenant swearing and shouting at the other officers interrupted the feedback before he came back on the radio. Dammit! Are you there!? I've been radio-ing in for thirty-minutes now. If I don't get a response from you in the next 10 seconds, you're fired Vecchio!" There was a pause on the other end and some muffled mutterings before his voice scratched through the speakers. "Okay.. So you're not fired.. Can't fire somebody who doesn't exist.." 

Fraser looked at Ray and sighed. "I guess this whole.. 'you're Vecchio.. but you're not really Vecchio is even confusing the Lieutenant." (Pronounced 'Left-tenant' aren't Canadians CRAZY!? *grin*) 

"Does it look like I care, Fraser? The guy.. Your partner.. Vecchio.. Who ever he was.. I don't care if he looked like that beanie-baby mob guy.. I really am sick of this you hear me? I don't even LIKE Buick Riverias!!" Ray grumbled as they narrowed in on the car. "Especially since everyone's so intent on blowing it up and filling it full of bullet holes.. I don't see why I don't just get a bicycle with a little bell on it." 

"I hardly think that's practical.. During the winter, in the snow.. I don't think that's practical at all, Ray. And it was the Boninni Crime Family.. Not Beanie-Baby." Fraser reasoned as Walsh had started to count anyway. 

"Seven... Eight ... Nine ...Te-" 

"I'm here.. I'm here.. We're in pursuit of the vehicle as we speak. Puke Yellow Pontiac-" Kowalski muttered irritably before Fraser interrupted. 

"We are in pursuit of the yellow Pontiac, sir. I was wondering if the department would consider installing passenger side airbags in Detective's vehicle. I do feel that safety of your officer's is a priority-" Fraser replied woundedly as he partially cupped his hands over his face. 

"KOWALSKI!!!!!!" Walsh yelled angrily, shouting the mountie down, ending with a heavy sigh as he calmed. "Fraser.. You don't work for me, putting airbags in his damn car is his responsibility.. Not the Chicago Taxpayer's." Pausing, he sighed again. "Kowalski.. Do I really want to know what he's babbling on about officer safety in your car?" He said tiredly. 

"A car cut us off. Fraser had a little accident at his birthday celebrations.. The Pontiac cut us off at the hospital exit.. Fraser's still a little bruised, and the sudden stop I had to make, to make sure my front end wasn't totaled, didn't help things, sir." Kowalski grumbled as they careened around another corner. 

"Do you want me to put the Strawberry on the roof?" Fraser snuffled. 

"It's a CHERRY Frase.. and no... Let's catch the bastard, old fashioned, RAY style.. Just cut through here and.." Ray zipped around another corner and crashed through somebody's rotted, white picket fence and over their weed filled flower bed. 

"Ray.. I don't think that was wise.. RAY!" Fraser yelled frantically as they suddenly started driving up a woodpile, using it as a ramp and sending the car airborne. "Ray.. You do ruin more stuff underneath your car this way.. I don't like the way your mechanic whistles when we drive in there lately." He said worriedly as the shocks crunched and the oil pan scraped the asphalt. He winced as he suddenly heard the muffler unhinging and dragging along behind the car. 

"Frase' you never were much for cars were you??" Ray wondered aloud as they drove over a lawn gnome. 

"Not really, Ray. I was more of a horse and snowshoe sort of person." Fraser winced as they hit a plastic deer and decapitated it, the head bouncing off the windscreen and rolling over the car roof. 

They cut through another yard and met the side of the yellow Pontiac as it zipped down the street and they bounced over a pair of dilapidated lawn chairs and plowed into the passenger's side door. The scream of metal on metal filled their ears as the Pontiac slammed sideways into a tree, pinning the driver inside. 

Ray flopped back onto the seat and grabbed up the radio. "Walsh.. We got him.. Call off the hounds."   



	5. ND: It Vibrates!

Chapter 5: "It Vibrates!"  
  
  
  
*******  
  
"W-where?" Fraser mumbled sleepily, raising his head from the gurney.  
  
"Hey.. He's up, Doc.." Zadro called to Luka who was talking to the detective.  
  
**  
  
"Yeah.. I know.. Seat belts.." Kowalski muttered distractedly, casting glances between the two trauma rooms. One contained his buddy and the other contained the convict. Dief sat at his feet, staring at him expectantly. "Stop it.. Dog.. Go.. Get away from me." Ray grunted, annoyed.  
  
Dief rolled his eyes and whined, padding off to the convict's trauma room as the man crashed. He sat in the corner, laying down on his side, watching the doctors struggle to keep the young car-thief alive.  
  
"What's a dog doing in here, Weaver?!" Benton grumbled, wiping his brow with the edge of his trauma gown. Weaver didn't look up from the gaping hole in the man's chest and shrugged,  
  
"It's not a dog, Benton. It's a wolf. Keep stitching," she growled back, her gaze faltering for a second as she made eye contact with Diefenbaker. The man on the gurney had caused the injuries to his master. Even so, the wolf was making sure everything was okay.  
  
Kerry sighed. "It's okay Diefenbaker.. Go. We're okay here." She murmured softly, watching the white wolf amble through the double doors.  
  
****  
  
"I thought I lost you son.. I thought you'd died.." Fraser Sr. said tearfully, shuddering as he stood over the gurney.  
  
Benton Fraser sighed, cocking a brow. "Dad," he hissed. "You're dead.. If I died.. You'd still see me.. Quite like how I see you now.. Stop it. This is getting strange." The Mountie eyed the doctors as they walked in the room, laying back onto the gurney and staring at the ceiling.  
  
"He was talking to himself again.. Did you get a CT?!" Carter hissed at Dave, who's nose had swelled slightly from his last encounter with Fraser.  
  
"No.. Did you!?" Dave hissed back, nudging the man in the ribs.  
  
"NO! Would I have asked you if you did, if I had done so already!?" Carter squeaked indignantly, as Fraser opened one eye and peered at the men.  
  
"Why are you men whispering? You are already aware that I am awake, and I assure you unlike my friend there, I have perfect hearing." Fraser said painfully.  
  
Dief sat at Dave's feet, his tail thumping on the floor and whined expectantly. "Dief.. Stop bugging the doctors. Go see Kowalski.." The Mountie ordered quietly, watching the dog's fluffy white tail bob and disappear from the room.  
  
**********  
  
"Man.. There's enough blow here, to put all of Jackie's kids through college!" Benton exclaimed, removing another large balloon from the man's burst stomach.  
  
"Benton, hurry up so we can sew the man back together.. Christ.. That IS a lot of cocaine." Kerry mused as another bag splatted into the basin.  
  
Yosh smirked. "Yep.. One bag leaks and the guy ODs.. Cool, eh?" Both doctors looked at the nurse with confused expressions.  
  
"Yosh.. Get out.. Please?" Kerry ordered and the Asian nurse shrugged.  
  
"Fine with me.. The guy's toast anyway." The man remarked, walking out of the room.  
  
"What's up with him!?" Benton said, as he dissected the bowel, his eyes on his work.  
  
Kerry shook her head in disbelief. "It's the hair.. It's got to be the hair. Ever since he grew it out, he's been getting stranger. It's the 60s rebellion mentality. Peter.. Please.. If you ever get a ponytail. I get permission to smack you."  
  
Benton winced involuntarily, remembering the Cup-A-Noodle incident. The one time she'd made a flippant remark about smacking anyone who'd use a fork to eat Cup-A-Noodle. Walking into the lounge to eat his lunch and finding nothing but knives and forks in the cutlery drawer. And as he'd raised the mouthful of noodles to his mouth, he'd gotten a smack across the back of the head. He'd considered putting the boots to her, or telling Romano.. But what could he say? "Kerry hit me for eating soup with a fork!"  
  
She could sense the tension between them as the man's muscled forearms tightened, something was up, the sweat beaded on his brow, and he bit his lip ever so slightly. His eyes flitted nervously in her direction as he finished up. "I.. I gotta go Weaver. My pager went off." Peter muttered quietly, shedding his gown and nearly running from the room.  
  
"I didn't hear anything!" Kerry shouted after him, as the doors crashed closed.  
  
"IT VIBRATES!" He yelled back over his shoulder as he slammed directly into Miss Piggy.  
  
"I'm sure it does.." She purred, moving a silk gloved hoof over his chest.  
  
"You're in the wrong fic, Pig.." Peter said irritably.  
  
Piggy's eyes narrowed, her hands on her hips. "When is she going to finish that anyhow?! Luka's getting very antsy, I can't keep him cornered in an exam room forever!" She squealed, shoving the surgeon.  
  
Luka raised his head from Fraser's chart, looking in the direction of the pig and the surgeon. "What?"  
  
Peter sighed. "Never mind, Kovac. Wrong fic.. She doesn't want your bacon in this one.. She wants mine apparently," he said tiredly.  
  
With a confused shrug, Kovac continued on his way to the exam room where Fraser had been moved to.  
  
"-but I'm going to ride forever. You can't keep horsemen in a cage. Should the angels call, well it's only then I might pull in the reins. They tell me I'm an old man, they tell me I am blind. They took my driver's license, this house ain't far behind. I say jump back all you big suits 'cause you've got something wrong. I ain't gone, no, I ain't gone. I am still breathing and I still have my pride. And I have my memories, your life, it never dies. Like the wind that blows in thunder or the stallion on the fly. I got it all and I'm standing tall underneath these blue Alberta skies-"  
  
Fraser sang softly to himself, his brow furrowed in thought as the words slipped easily over his lips. Slowly his head turned and he faced the doctor. "Oh.. I'm sorry.. I-I don't remember the rest of the words.. You wouldn't perchance, would you?"  
  
Kovac watched him concernedly, shaking his head and slipping the chart into the rack on the door. "No.. I'm sorry. I don't. What's Al- berta?" The Croatian struggled, pulling up the chair, and sitting in front of the bed.  
  
"A place.. A province. Home.." Fraser murmured. "Sort of. It was, at one point anyway." Weakly he raised a hand, over his head and brushing his fingers through his neat hair. The white cotton gown stopped a few inches from his knees, giving him a thin, pale convalescent look. He frowned. "They took my hat you know, and my boots." The man frowned, closing his eyes, his lips pursed in pain.  
  
Kovac looked at him concerned. "Are you okay?! What's wrong?" He watched at Fraser winced and sighed unhappily.  
  
"I'm okay I guess, just remembering.. They cut them off." The Mountie whispered sadly.  
  
Kovac, for no other reason other than the fact that it'd make him upset if they cut his off too, stared at Fraser's groin. "They did!?" he remarked incredulously.  
  
Fraser nodded solemnly. "Yes.. They cut off my boots."  
  
********  
  
"So what's the damage?" Ray muttered tiredly to the ER Chief. "What's the goods? Who's dead, who's alive, and who's gonna be stuck paying the bill?"  
  
Kerry clenched her jaw. She hated police as a general rule. Detectives she just detested. "The car thief, the child you ran into a tree... Is dead.. He had several balloons of cocaine in his stomach. He died of an overdose and the fact that he was bleeding to death didn't help matters. Your Canadian friend is doing well.. Broken leg, concussion. We moved him to an exam room, Dr. Kovac is watching him."  
  
The doctor and the detective turned slowly to see Kovac stumble out of the room. "I.. I.. Baby beluga in the deep blue sea, swim so wild and you swim so free. Heaven above you, sea below, Just a little white whale on the go. Baby beluga, baby beluga, is the water warm?  
  
Is your mother home with you, so happy. Way down yonder where the dolphins play,  
  
Where they dive and splash all day, The waves roll in and the waves roll out, See the water squirting out of your spout!!!!!!!!" Luka crowed gleefully, his arms outstretched over his head as he spun in circles and continued to sing in a high, crazed falsetto. "The cat came back.. the very next day.. the cat came back.. Y'know.. We thought he was a gonner.. but the cat came.. Back.. he just wouldn't stay aawaaaaay...." Luka smiled goofily as he tripped and weaved out the doors. "Gimme a meow.. Meeeoww! LOUDER! MEOW!!!" He screamed, laughing and running out of the ER.  
  
Ray cocked a brow and let out a low whistle. "Man... Frase' really must be fucked.. He's singing Canadian folk tunes.. You guys didn't cut off his boots again did you?" 


	6. ND: Stop, Drop and Roll

Chapter 6: "Stop, Drop and Roll.  
  
"-and that is how you jump from rooftop to rooftop. Just remember to try to land on your feet and tuck your head and tumble sideways onto your shoulders." Fraser said helpfully, as Yosh took notes.  
  
Yosh Takata smiled. "That's great Constable Fraser.. How do you survive falling in a frozen lake? I think I missed a few things.." He said flipping back in his notepad.  
  
Fraser smiled. This was the most attention he'd gotten all day. Apart from the female staff coming in every so often to check on him and see if he was okay. He was sure that a few of them had alterior motives for changing the IV bag every five minutes, and the cards with their phone numbers written inside, outnumbered the few he'd gotten from the station and the consolate. Stuck here, he'd already sent the Croatian doctor screaming from the room. Folk tunes were usually very soothing, he smiled at the nurse, the man's pen poised over the note pad.  
  
"Cross your ankles, draw your knees up to your chest and cross your arms over your chest. Tread slowly to keep yourself up above water, slow your breathing to conserve energy. If you're able to break ice to get up and back on land, I was partial to finding an animal carcass, or killing myself a caribou.. You make a slit from it's groin to it's neck and climb into the animal. They're quite useful in allowing to conserve body heat they act as an insulator, and a fresh kill, the body heat from the warm carcass-"  
  
Kerry crutched into the room and barked at the nurse who hopped slightly and then rushed back to work. "TAKATA! DON'T YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO!?"  
  
"Yes, Dr.Weaver.." He said quickly as he shut the door behind him..  
  
Kerry smiled reassuringly at the mountie. "Seems like you end up here alot, I've looked at your chart. Accident prone are we?" It wasn't unusual, his listing of injuries, broken bones and shootings. Of course the man was a police officer of sorts, but even the Chicago PD didn't end up here that often. If this was like Starbucks, one more skull fracture and Fraser would receive a free CT scan.  
  
"Not accident prone, Dr.Weaver. Just part of the job." Fraser insisted, pulling himself into a sitting position.  
  
"Well even your partner's been in here on occasion. I can't imagine that the police force is pleased with the hospital bills." Weaver said almost accusingly and Fraser shook his head.  
  
"I'm not a member of the Chicago Police Department, Dr.Weaver. Quite the opposite actually.. It happened a few years ago when I first came to Chicago tracking the killers of my father, you see-" Fraser started in on his introduction when the male staff at County all stumbled breathless and frightened into the room and slammed the door.  
  
"Y-you lock it?!" Dave panted, bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath, he looked up at Mark and Luka who nodded, shutting off the lights and closing the blinds  
  
"Yeah.." Luka said, peering carefully out the window as the rest of the men kept their heads down. "Nobody can get in. Wait-DUCK!" All the men leapt onto the floor, flat on their bellies like a air-raid drill, their breaths coming in short terrified snorts like a horse that suddenly smells a grizzly and doesn't know whether to run or let the bear eat it alive.  
  
"WHAT! Is going on here!?" Weaver demanded angrily to the doctors, nurses and med students who all hid against the door, panting and void of colour.  
  
Fraser raised his good hand slightly. "I may be of assistance in this matter. You see.. Detective Vecchio's sister was here looking for us, and well.." He blushed. "She likes to go husband hunting. She says the best place to do that is in a hospital. All those doctors and cute male nurses."  
  
Weaver rolled her eyes and sighed. "Dave... I want you to go out there and create a distraction."  
  
"But Chief.. T-that woman will eat me alive, and I don't mean with a knife and fork!" He stammered nervously, glancing out the window, watching Francesca Vecchio march up and down the hallways, looking for them.. Going in for the kill like a mother leopard slowly picking off the gazelles to feed her cubs.  
  
"NOW Malucci!" She barked, causing all the men to flinch and look at the young doctor with pity.  
  
"Good luck, bro!" Malik said encouragingly, clapping him on the back as Dave stood, his eyes flitting back to the Chief.  
  
"Malucci.. We need these men back to work. We have to have Constable Fraser transferred upstairs, and we CAN'T do anything until that woman has been dealt with. So deal with her." Weaver ordered, pointing do the door.  
  
***  
  
Slowly.. in the middle of the hall, Dave stripped off his pants. His thumb and forefinger pulling at the button fly, popping it out with a forceful yank as his other hand unzipped the fly with a precision and painstaking care that even Romano would be proud of. Dave's smooth and soft hands gripped the blue Levis jeans and pulled them down. The fabric rough against his fingertips and they snagged slightly on the elastic of his boxers, pulling the white cotton down so that his sloping back and bum were becoming increasingly visible to the female staff. Slowly his hands crept down his hairy, tanned and toned legs, allowing him to shed the clothing. It now lay in a pile at his feet, still warm from being pressed against his firm body. Ignoring the many eyes on him, he started to take off his shirt. It wasn't like the shirts he normally wore.. This one had many buttons, the sort of buttons that made a plinking noise when they started to hit the tiles in the County hallway.  
  
Carefully he unbuttoned the top of the shirt, his fingers working mechanically, in and out as he released the buttons through the button holes, his thumbs almost chafing with each motion. Roughly he pulled it away from his body, the brushed cotton-polyester blend protesting and ripping, the buttons tearing from their rightful place and falling to the floor.  
  
His skin bare, his chest smooth and muscular, the nipples erect and pert from the cold, the rosey pinkness of his nipples and areola a nice contrast to his olive skin that was coming up in goosebumps on his forearms. His chest heaved from the sudden exertion, the animal adrenaline that now coursed through his body. His muscles tensed and gleaming with sweat, twitching slightly from the cold, his white boxers and gym socks now being the only articles of clothing that he wore. Dave looked down and lowered himself onto the cold tile, his hand splayed out on the smooth flooring, baring his weight as he slipped to a seated position and stared at his feet.  
  
Pulling at the laces of his old sneakers, he tugged, biting on his bottom lip in concentration as his fingers pulled at the knot and the bow tumbled out of existence, the laces slack as Dave started to loosen the sneaker and pull his foot free from it's encasement. As he repeated this task with the other foot, Chuni elbowed Haleh. "Why doesn't he get to the underwear already!?"  
  
"Shush.. He's performing a simplistic sexual ritual.. and he's slowly getting naked.. Let him take his time.." Haleh hissed back.  
  
"Sex ritual.. Looks like he's giving the cop's sister a free show!" Wendy said, watching Dave's nimble fingers, pluck at the plush fabric of his sports socks.  
  
"Yes.. That's what I'm saying.. But he's also giving US a free show, so shut up!" Haleh said with a sigh, her eyes fixed on the underpants that Dave had yet to shed.  
  
"Oh." Chuni and Wendy replied in unison, watching, the muscles in his back ripple and move with each slight motion of Dave's hands.  
  
Methodically he took off each sock, rolling them down to each toe and tugging them off gently, to lay them ontop of his other clothing. Dave sighed, looking down at his perfect, taught skin, tanned and gleaming. The only thing marring it from being it's wonderous natural beauty was the cotton boxers. Sliding his thumbs under the elastic waist he forced them downwards, the edges biting into the flesh between his thumbs and forefingers. A sharp intake of breath from the nurses who gawked in anticipation, as Dave stood awkwardly, his knees bent as he slid the boxers down to his knees and kicked them off. Looking up mildly, he brushed the fragments of lint and stray thread from his body before he strode to the admit desk  
  
Even at half-mast, Malucci was a pinnacle of perfection. His circumscised penis hung limply between his legs, large, long and the light pink colour of a fresh, expensive liver pate, his genitalia covered in curly, dark hair. The nurses tried not to stare, as carefully each of them begrudgingly handed Haleh wads of bills. "I told you girls. They don't call him Italian Stallion for nothing." She muttered gleefully, stuffing the money into her wallet.  
  
Francesca who'd come around the corner for the third time stopped dead in her tracks. There was a male doctor in the middle of the hallway. The Italian one.. Malucci... And Malucci wasn't wearing any clothes. Good-Lord the man was hung like a... Like an Italian.. Certainly this was an attempt to keep her focused on him while the rest of the men in the building could make an escape. They couldn't trick her! She was smarter, when she caught them they'd be sorry.. They'd be- oh screw it.  
  
Dave's eyes widened as he saw her advancing, her arms outstretched.. Coming closer and there was no where to run. He looked around frantically. Nowhere.. but.. THAT way.. Stumbing down the halls, the balls of his feet slick with sweat as he navigated corners, up and down stairs.  
  
Only to find Francesca waiting at every level, man.. This chick was worse than that dude chasing Arnold in the Terminator.. Thought Dave as he scrambled up the stairs again and onto the next floor. It wasn't helping matters that his mind kept wandering to that channel he'd been watching the other night. The woman going at it like rabid lesbian monkeys, slapping each other in the groin and screaming happily. It was difficult to run up and down stairs with an erection, he quickly found out as he got a cramp in his leg and crashed to the floor. Oh god.. It was all over now. He was a dead man!  
  
Quickly Dave recited a quick prayer, telling the Lord to look after his family, to donate his organs, (if this chick wasn't the type to eat the male after mating), and to have his cloud in heaven beside Marilyn Monroe and Jimi Hendrix. Dave lay there, holding his leg, wondering if being found dead in a stairwell, naked, with an erection was worse than death by firing squad. 


	7. ND: The Things We Do For Money

Chapter 7: The Things We Do For Money  
  
  
  
****************************  
  
"Get away from him Frannie..." said the voice as Francesca stooped over the crippled Dave, about to have her way with every inch of him.  
  
"Make me, Ray! You can't make me. You left. Remember?" Fran yelled angrily, pinning the terrified doctor to the ground, kneeling on his arms as she started to undress herself.  
  
"Come on Fran... You know, if you do this, you can never become a cop like me, it's like confinement or something. You're holding him against his will." Ray Vecchio pleaded.  
  
Dave smiled watching Fran's boobs bounce and move in front of him, sooo close.. He strained his arms against her strong legs. Ohhh god.. Yet soo far. Her nipples pert, Dave's full erection brushed against one of her legs and he moaned happily.  
  
Ray cocked a brow, and pulled his gun out of its holster (his real gun out of his real holster, we're not having a weird brother-sister-doctor orgy.) "Come on Fran get off him."  
  
"N-noooo.." Dave panted as Fran started to back up, her hands finding his penis, rolling it over in her hands like a large sausage, gripping it as she helped him thrust into her fingers. Just as he was about to pass out from being so deliriously happy, Ray grabbed Fran around the neck and yanked her off.  
  
Dave screamed, her hands whipped away from their position, pulling him with her. As she was ordered down, he moaned, doubling over in pain. "Ooooooooooooogh! Why??? Why did you do that??! That thing's ATTACHED!" He moaned, whimpering. "Geeez.. Y-you're a guy.. You'd think you'd understand!"  
  
"Fran.. Get down.. Down on your belly.. Come on.. Lay there.. I'm gonna have to put the cuffs on you." Ray barked, straddling his sister and cuffing her hands behind her back. Dave winked at the detective and cocked a brow at the current position of brother and sister. Ray shuddered.  
  
"Get some clothes on Doc. You're safe now." Vecchio muttered trying not to look at the naked man. "Do you want me to get you some - Doctor clothes?" He said with averted eyes.  
  
Dave looked down at himself, still semi-erect. Despite having it nearly ripped off, he was still horny. He sighed. "Yeah, you can probably grab some scrubs from the nurse... Just ask."  
  
"What if she asks why?" Ray, said, slightly amused, Fran struggling in his grip. "Cut it out Fran."  
  
"Tell them..." Dave sighed. "Malucci lost a bet. That'll stop any suspicion." He said remembering the 'walk of shame' where he had to walk naked with a bedpan over his goods through the OB floor. It was still the talk of County.  
  
Ray snickered. "No problem buddy." He sat Francesca down in a corner. "Stay!" Turning to Dave he thumbed to his sister. "Watch her will you. She's really more trouble than she's worth. I'm surprised it's you laying there naked and not Benny."  
  
******  
  
"You see, computers are quite useful, Constable" Carter said, tapping out on the keyboard beside Fraser. "-and with the internet, you can find just about anything. What was that song you were looking for?"  
  
"Log-driver's Waltz.. The McGarrigle Sisters sang it for an NFB of Canada short quite a few years ago. Very nice song." Fraser smiled, snuggling back into the bed as the rhythmic peck of the doctor's fingers on the keypad stopped.  
  
"N-F-B? McGarrigle Sisters?" The doctor cocked his head slightly, his lips parted. "Wha?"  
  
Fraser chuckled, ducking his head. "Sorry.. As Ray would say, I'm speaking Canadian. The NFB is the National Film Board and the McGarrigle Sisters were a singing duo. One of them is Rufus Wainwright's mother. Usually I'd remember which one, but I think the bump on my head," he smiled uneasily. "Well you know."  
  
"Yeah... I know. How did you spell his name again, Constable? The guy that wrote it?" Carter said, confused, his finger pressed on the backspace key. "Wade? What was the last name?" His two index fingers poised over the computer, he looked at the Mountie expectantly.  
  
"You CAN call me Benton, if you prefer. It's no problem," Fraser said kindly. "It's Hemsworth. H-E-M-S-W-O-" He looked up as a nurse stood in the doorway. "Hello there."  
  
"No thanks, one Benton in this hospital is quite enough.." Carter muttered under his breath, looking up.  
  
Chuny smiled, the necessities tucked under her arm as she glared at Carter. "Constable Fraser, it's time for your sponge bath," she said officiously.  
  
"No.. Thank you kindly, but that nice Lily gave me one not even an hour ago." Fraser said with a smile. "Thank you kindly though."  
  
Carter smirked. "Yeah, Chuny. Thank you kindly... Now beat it. Besides... Isn't it customary to have a SPONGE with you when you give sponge baths?" He snickered and turned back to the computer. "You were saying?" The doctor said as Chuny stormed off and slammed the door behind her.  
  
"Oh, yes! R-T-H.. Yes.. That's it. Hemsworth." Fraser peered onto the screen. "Did you find it?" The list ran off the screen, the happy little maple leaf icon beside the YAHOO CANADA logo. Carter nodded.  
  
"Yep.. There's an MP3 here if you like. You want me to burn you a CD, Constable?" Carter smiled. This was a lot better than dealing with patients and Kerry wasn't on the rampage. She was off looking for Malucci.  
  
"Burn?" Fraser cocked a brow. "Pardon me? I don't think your hospital has those sorts of fire codes and regulations. And please.. Call me Fraser.. Or Ben.."  
  
Carter nodded. "Okay.. Ben.. No, I mean a copy. I can make you a copy of the song onto a CD." He smiled at the man, "You want a copy of it?"  
  
Fraser smiled and nodded slightly, "Yes, I'd like that very much, thank you."  
  
************  
  
As Carter set to work, down the hall, Vecchio was helping a limping fellow Italian in a pair of surgical scrubs. "Look... As much as I'd like you to press charges- OW!" Ray rubbed at his bruised shin where Frannie kicked him.  
  
"RAY! I'm your sister! You can't tell him to press charges!" She screeched, smacking him over the head with her purse. "You hear that buttmonkey? I'm your sister!" Frannie yelled as she hit him again. "And you're supposed to love me!"  
  
Dave watched Fran beat her brother over the head with the large purse. He smiled uneasily. "Do you think it was a good idea to take her out of the handcuffs so soon?" The doctor looked at the heavy metal black cuffs hanging off the man's belt. "And.. If you're not using them, I have this date tonight and-"  
  
Ray winced and pulled her purse away. "As I was saying, Fran," he muttered irritably. "As much as I'd *love* him to press charges, you're my sister and you're SICK IN THE HEAD and severely in need of therapy and electroshock!!!" He yelled back. "So, I'd like it if Dr. Malucci would waive the charges."  
  
Dave looked at the pair of them, "Waive the charges. You don't want me to press charges!? This woman attacked me!" Sighing heavily, he shrugged. "Fine.. You promise me she'll NEVER come here again? I'm sick of being the diversion. Besides, lady. Just because I'm a doctor, doesn't mean I'm rich. I have med school loans, rent, groceries. I'm lucky to be able to pay for the Playboy channel."  
  
Frannie sighed haughtily. "I guess so. I suppose I could make that sacrifice. There's other hospitals in Chicago. You're not the only joint in town," she mumbled sullenly.  
  
"Frannie!" Vecchio grunted angrily. "No more trolling for dates at the hospital!" He struggled to get a grip of her as she hauled off and kicked him again. "OW!"  
  
"I wasn't trolling for a date! I was looking for a..." She trailed off, a dreamy expression glazing over her eyes. "A husband.." Frannie sighed happily as Dave raised an eyebrow and backed away.  
  
"Yeah... okay.. Well.. I gotta get back to work." Dave said uneasily as Vecchio lead away his sister. "Thanks.."  
  
  
  
*****  
  
Pinning Francesca up against the side of the Riv, Ray patted down his pockets for his keys. "What were you doing in there anyway!? Wouldn't have this been your third restraining order for this place?!" He muttered, fishing out the key-ring and struggling to open the door.  
  
"I could ask you the same thing! Aren't you supposed to be playing Rent-a- Mobster? I was here on business. Fraser needed a new hat," Frannie retorted snottily, her face pressed up against the hood as her brother patted her down.  
  
"A hat? What would Benny need a new hat for? At the hospital?" Ray looked at her, startled. "What's Benny doing here, Fran?!" He said in a frightened tone as he slammed her up against the car again. "Don't make me dent my girl with your fat head. Tell me, Frannie. What's Benny doing here?!"  
  
"OW! He was in an accident. A car accident with that new detective. He got a little banged up. That's all.. He's okay.. He's fine."  
  
***  
  
"Ohhhhhh.. For he goes birling down a-down the white water; That's where the log driver learns to step lightly. It's birling down, a-down white water; A log driver's waltz pleases girls completely." Fraser grinned, his voice a rich hue of tones that resonated out the door and weakened the knees of the nurses.  
  
The CD player beside the bed spun the MP3 copy and the mountie smiled blissfully. "When the drive's nearly over, I like to go down to see all the lads while they work on the river. I know that come evening they'll be in the town And we all want to waltz with a log driver!" He smiled happily at the IV the nurse had hung on his pole earlier, he wasn't usually for taking medications, but what they had him on, made him feel fine and dandy indeed.  
  
"To please both my parents I've had to give waaaaay and dance with the doctors and merchants and lawyers. Their manners are fine but their feet are of claaaaaaay. For there's none with the style of a log driver." As Vecchio crept into the room, Fraser waved his arms about slightly, his eyes closed as his head dipped to the music. "I've had my chances with all sorts of men. But none is so fine as my lad on the river. So when the drive's over, if he asks me again, I think I will marry my log driver." The music slowly ended, Fraser opening his eyes with a slight embarrassed grin. "RAY!"  
  
"Benny.. I never knew.. I always thought you were hip to the ladies..." Ray Vecchio said with a chuckle. "But hell, to each their own. You okay, man?"  
  
"I'm fine Ray.. It's a song. Just a song, Ray.. Dr. Carter found it on the internet and made me an illegal bootleg of it. It's quite nice, it's all about this woman that fancies her log driver.. and.."  
  
Ray smiled encouragingly. "Gee.. That's great Benny.. Good to see the doctors at this fine hospital are having such a great influence on you. Sounds like a great song. Now I was wondering-"  
  
"What are you doing here?" Kowalski glared at Vecchio, his gun drawn. "He's not an officer anymore, Frase.. He's not one of us." He said, hatred in his voice.  
  
"Well, Ray.. I mean.. Kowalski.. I mean Stan... Well technically I never was one of you.. I am only a Liaison officer with the Canadian Consulate." Fraser said uneasily as he watched the two men circle each other.  
  
"Shut up Benny..." Ray muttered, eyeing the detective, his gun drawn. "Don't listen to him Benny.. I'm still your friend.. I'm still here.. I'm here aren't I?" He said, his voice getting a frantic edge.  
  
"Yes.. You are, Ray. You're still here." Fraser said calmly. "Why Ray?"  
  
"Because.." Ray paused to grab the bed pan off the side table and fling it at Kowalski, narrowly missing the detective's head and clattering to the floor. "I came to see you."  
  
"Benny... Cute.." Kowalski snorted, "Frase.. Stay out of this. He's not your friend anymore. Get down on your knees.. Drop the gun."  
  
"I needed the money... So I took a little pay off.. How was I supposed to know that kid was going to get killed!? He wasn't supposed to die." Vecchio said angrily, booting his gun across the room, skittering into a corner. "THERE! YOU HAVE MY GUN! WHAT?! YOU WANT MY PANTS TOO?!"  
  
"I don't need the theatrics, Vecchio. You know the drill." Kowalski said with a bored tone, "I want the other gun too... The one in your-"  
  
Suddenly the barrel of the gun was pressed against his nose and Stan breathed slowly. "Okay there... You don't have to do anything stupid, Vecchio.. You put the gun down and we all walk out of here. Okay?"  
  
"Actually, Stan..." Fraser said looking at his leg which was suspended from the ceiling.  
  
"Okay.." Stan Kowalski rolled his eyes. "You and I walk out of here. Frase' stays here because they've decided to make him into a hanging planter. Is that detailed enough for you Fraser?!" He eyed the gun, pressed firmly against the side of his nose. "I don't think now's the time to get nick- picky. I DO have a gun to my head."  
  
"Actually...."  
  
"Shut up Fraser." Both men shouted in unison.  
  
"Damn... I forgot how annoying he could be!" Vecchio said with disbelief. "Shit.. and I thought Vinnie was a pain in the ass.. I really did miss the Mountie."  
  
Kowalski smiled uneasily. "Yeah.. He sure can be a pain in the ass," he murmured softly, when Vecchio snapped the detective's head back, his fingers entangled in his hair, pulling his gaze to eye level.  
  
"Did I say you could speak?" Vecchio smacked him lightly upside the head. "No.. I didn't.. So you shut up too.. It was just a little bit of money. Take the money, or die.. That was my options. Quite frankly being on the take and being alive is a lot better. Do you want to find out if being dead is any better?"  
  
Fraser sighed. "Please Ray... Don't you remember what my father said? A friend will help you move. A best friend will help you move a body...." He trailed off. "Wait.. That wasn't it... It was something about rubbing down a Caribou with tallow before you go dancing naked in the moonlight... I don't rightly recall the reasoning for that though.."  
  
"I like that other thing your Dad said. You can help me move his body, Benny.." Vecchio tripped the man, Kowalski, causing him to grunt in pain and land on his hands and knees. The gun aimed squarely at the back of his head. "You wanna be my best friend?"  
  
Fraser Sr. grumbled irritably. "You see son? You see what happens when you mess up my wise witticisms?! You get people killed."  
  
"Dad.. I hardly think that's the point. I really am in a bind here you know, and all you can think about is whether I gave your advice as you intended." Benton Fraser hissed to the old man.  
  
"Well, Son. I don't see the problem. You have the two of them trying to kill each other. It's not your problem."  
  
"Dammit, Dad.." Fraser muttered. "It is a problem. I have two of my best friends trying to kill each other."  
  
"Well I don't get the point to all this. One of your friends tried to push you off a bridge... The other one is waving a gun around and threatening to kill people. Maybe if you can make him see the point, you can talk some sense into him." Sitting up out of the chair, his father dusted himself off and wandered out the door. "Good luck."  
  
See the point? What in the h-? Fraser sighed. The man was getting crazier after he was dead, that was sure. He flexed his hand, letting it come to rest on the side table, onto the tray that had been put there after his stitches. His hand grazed something, and he withdrew it in pain. "ow..." He muttered to himself as he watched Vecchio go through Kowalski's pockets, kneeling over him in very the same manner he had been with his sister only an hour ago.  
  
Carefully Fraser inspected his hand. He'd cut it... On what though? The only thing that was on that tray was a... "Scalpel."  
  
Vecchio had emptied Stan's pockets, pulling the man to his feet, the gun still snug against his skull. "You think about moving and I move a bullet into your brain. Got that? Tough guy?"  
  
  
  
"Ray?" Fraser said kindly, causing the ex-officer to look up.  
  
"Yeah Benny?" Vecchio smiled slightly at the mountie. Yeah, if time could go backwards, what he wouldn't give to be back on the beat with Benny.. But life wasn't like that. Life was like this. and he needed to survive.  
  
"Can you catch?"  
  
"Catch?" Vecchio looked at him oddly before the scalpel spun through the air and caught him in the hand, knocking the gun to the floor. "Augh! Jesus Christ, Benny! What in the fuck did you do that for!?" Staring blankly at his hand, the knife jutting though the other side, blood running down his wrist and arm as Kowalski grabbed him.  
  
"Let's try this again, asshole.. Down on the ground, spread 'em." Kowalski placed a boot on Vecchio's back and stood over him with a slight grin. "Sorta like getting your first caribou. Right Frase'?"  
  
Fraser shrugged and sighed. "I suppose so, Ray. I suppose so." As the door slid open, Wendy standing there with a jug of ice water and two glasses.  
  
"I just thought I'd bring you something to drink, Constable Fra-" She looked at the men, one with his foot pinning the other to the floor. "Oh.. I.. I see this is a bad time. I'm sorry, Constable..." Wendy said quickly before she backed out of the room.  
  
"That's quite all right! Thank you kindly though!" Fraser shouted after her. "She's nice, isn't she?"  
  
Kowalski rolled his eyes. "Sure Frase, whatever. You mind using your little phone dealie and getting some back-up here?"  
  
With an understanding nod, the mountie quickly dialed the detachment. "Certainly Ray."  
  
"I'M RAY!" Vecchio bellowed before Kowalski booted him to the head.  
  
"Shut up.. You're not Ray.. I am." Stanley, "Ray" Kowalski said with a grin. "Aren't I Frase'?"  
  
"Yes, Ray." 


End file.
